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The Blind Revival

Assume the burial of the you to me that I conceived The soil's earth, the soul engorges my strives to reach the air It renounces me to make way for the reborn root of you For me, I seek to force above the fold But the mound engineers my innocence To drown down to your fading hold Is to feel the heavy weight of yearned existence I will never reach your delicate grasp It forgets to lay claim to mine No, forget me not for it is a measured miss Your intended dereliction by design You, drifting steadily beyond all redemption Me, approaching abandonment of the quest - A hymn to the blind revival Be assured at the closing breath You are fated to offer a whisper - a shadow - a gesture Grant full life in the depth of your distance To keep me in hope yet to know that hope is empty Anchored - aligned In preparation for denial Of your piece At the end of the never-ceasing coda.
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Written by
shauna-white
Irish
Published
Apr 13, 2020
Lines·Words
26·171
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